Sensory
by Lunaretta
Summary: A collection of drabbles and vignettes relating to senses, in different points of view, about different things.
1. Rescues

**Sensory**

A collection of drabbles and vignettes relating to senses, in different points of view, about different things. Can be taken as either verse but more TV verse than movie verse.

**Disclaimer**- Not mine. Just toying around with the universe :)

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Rescues

_Taste- Scott_

It's funny how you think rescues are difficult because of the situation, but that's not the hardest thing. Doing's not always difficult- as there's always some solution in the end. The fear is- the overwhelming fear that exudes in the atmosphere, which you have to battle and fight to control. You can feel it leaving a terrifying dry taste in your mouth.

I'm not afraid for me. But if I make a decision at Mobile Control, and one of my brothers is injured, I can't help but think it's my fault. And the bitter taste of guilt is left behind.

_See- Virgil _

Sight is the thing that gets at me when we're on a rescue. Sight can be both a blessing and such a curse at the same time. You can't possibly describe the looks of terror, the worried expressions and the utter devastation. The ruined buildings and landscapes, the wrecking of expensive machinery- nothing can even remotely match up to it.

But without sight, none of the rescues could happen anyway. And when you see the relief and happiness on the looks of the rescued, and their families, you can't help but think it's worth it, despite the view of disaster.

_Hear- John_

On most rescues, I feel useless. That's I'm mostly in Thunderbird 5, and from up here, I monitor almost all the rescues, because Alan is lazy and doesn't like completing his tour of duty on Five. And so I hear everything that's going on and can't help a single bit.

Up here, it's waiting for news. To hear the distress calls and cheerfully replying that's you'll save them- but often, it's too late anyway. To hear the violent sounds of crashing, the sound of panic and screaming, even gun shots and occasionally bombs exploding. I hear- but can't do anything.

_Touch- Gordon_

It's funny on a rescue. You feel many various things- good and bad. It's awful to go into rooms of burning fuels and things like that. There's also the awful feeling of the dead and severely injured bodies, like lumps of flesh and blood, just feeling, well dead.

When I touch them, I can't help but think I was like that, a while ago, when the rescuers had to rescue me after the crashed hydrofoil. A rescue was all heroics until I felt a dead body, clammy, cold and unfeeling. And I knew what they felt when they rescued me.

_Smell- Alan_

Rescues were all fun and games to me. That was until I went on my first one and got the reality hammered into my head. You can say rescues smell. In fact, many rescues smell like smoke. I know what smoke smells like, since I was a race car driver and smoke is a fairly common occurrence when cars combust. That and the fact Virgil smokes.

But it's different. On the track it was the smell of excitement. But on a rescue, it's different. The smoke spreads the smell of fear and danger, as well as blood, death and destruction.

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Author's note

I wrote this as a writing exercise. This will be updated when I get a brilliant idea to drabble, or when I need to get rid of writer's block for Web of Lies. Please review and tell me what you think of them.


	2. Apple Pie

**Sensory**

A collection of drabbles and vignettes relating to senses, in different points of view, about different things. Can be taken as either verse but more TV verse than movie verse.

**Disclaimer**- Not mine. Just toying around with the universe :)

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Apple pie

_Intro- Smell_

Scott Tracy stole stealthily into the kitchen. He had heard that Grandma was baking one for dinner and he couldn't resist when he smelt the delicious smell wafting around the house.

_Andante- See_

He saw the beautiful cake in front of him. It was truly a masterpiece- a lovely cake indeed. He could still go out of the kitchen now and forego the wrath of Grandma. But it was simply too tempting and he picked up a knife.

_Allegro- Touch_

He touched the surface of the cake and it was perfect. The texture and firmness was perfect. Grandma was indeed a good cook. He poised the knife perfectly on the cake and cut himself a generous slice.

_Crescendo- Taste_

He raised the piece to his lips and tasted it. It was perfect. A delicious blend of sweet and slightly sour. He took the knife again and was beginning to cut himself another piece before…

_Coda- Hear_

"Scott Tracy, what are you doing to my apple pie!"

Grandma was in the room, raising her wooden spoon threateningly. Scott gulped. He had incurred the wrath of Grandma and nothing could help him now. He bolted.

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Author's note

This was written when I wrote 'Rescues' (previous chapter) Please review!


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